HOPE

When I was young they sold me on illusions:
Santa Claus, Jesus Christ, and Unconditional Love.
Such comforting thoughts, and like a child I embraced them.
Planned out my whole life, expecting them.

Santa came once a year, to those who were good,
 Jesus was coming soon for those who obey,
Love was coming when I learned to love myself.
Those things came and went, but they failed to show.

No fat old man brought me rewards for doing the right thing,
No zombie messiah was coming from the sky,
No woman was risking anything to be with me.
I trusted my elders to teach me true, oh what a fool!

Only the fear of prison and death brings good behaviour in man,
Only an all out rebellion can bring salvation or justice,
Only playing games and soft lies brings you passing affections.
I found out too late, on the edge of thirty.

Only happiness is in small passing moments of levity.
Only chance we have is in fighting for equality and enlightenment.
Only love is in selfless, unappreciated acts of kindness.
Only reason to live is found in the self-delusion of hope.

Hope that one day that we will get what we have coming.
Hope that one day there will be peace and abundance.
Hope that one day we will learn to love without ego.
All we have is Santa, Jesus, Unconditional Love, and Hope.

So now I cling to hope, like a dying man to a lifepreserver.
Staying up late at night wondering why the Greeks decided:
That hope should be put in Pandora's box,
When everything else in it was the sum of man's vices.